


Seashells

by Saxifactumterritum



Series: Moments universe [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Stargate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 15:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19726327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saxifactumterritum/pseuds/Saxifactumterritum
Summary: John tells Teyla about his brother :)





	Seashells

**Author's Note:**

> no warnings on this one. 
> 
> I dunno how long I'm gonna keep going with this series, I guess as long as I think of things happening to them :) if you think of a thing to happen you can ask me to write it, in the comments, if you want :) I might even do it. 
> 
> also, titles SUCK. This one is irrelevant to the story but whatever

It's a good day for the beach. Teyla's lying on her front, reading the latest edition of an academic journal that arrived this morning. It's hot and she's  _ too  _ hot because Torren is asleep on her back, the umbrella shading them. Rodney is sat in a folding chair he brought, in a long sleeve shirt and short-pants, slathered in factor 90 sunscreen and wearing a little protector over his nose and a hat. Teyla thinks he's ridiculous but likes him anyway. He reaches over and sets one of his cool-packs wrapped in a towel against Torren. It cools her back and she sighs, eliciting a laugh from Rodney and, joy of joys, another cool-pack set on her shoulders. They’re for keeping the food cold, really, but Rodney brought a whole lot of things of his own, including extra cool-packs. A strange man. John comes rushing up, racing Aidan and Ronon and winning by cheating (Teyla saw him trip Aidan and saw him toss Ronon's surfboard back into to the ocean). His face is alight with exhilaration like he used to get after flying, hair still sticking up even slicked to his head by water. He leans on Rodney’s chair, laughing, dripping and shaking his head to scatter water everywhere. Teyla settles her head in her arms over her journal and listens to Rodney's high pitched shrieks and ranting.

“John, you will wake Torren,” Teyla says. She wouldn't mind, he doesn't need a nap he's coming up on five. Marta still naps, but Kanaan took her up off the beach for some shade, away from the noise. 

“Not my fault Rodney's loud,” John says, straightening up and turning. 

Teyla shifts so she can watch. Aidan and Ronon have circled their camp and as John stands, prissy with his hands on his hips, Ronon leaps right over Rodney from the higher ground, eliciting another shriek, Aidan comes bombing between the umbrella and the boys’ jumble of towels, and both of them tackle John. Teyla turns on her side, gently tipping Torren off, so she can scoop him up as he wakes. He whines and wriggles and makes a fuss about it but wakes up and drinks water. He wants juice instead and she's distracted for a bit with her son, when she looks up again John’s flopped on the sand by Rodney, resting against his leg, Ronon and Aidan are raiding the bags for food, and Rodney's got her journal. 

“Aidan, Aidan, Aidan,” Torren says, going over to tug at Aidan’s shoulder. “Can we surf again now?”

Aidan's been taking him out on the board, this morning. Teyla does it usually, she doesn't mind riding with Torren, small and sturdy, but it was really nice to be able to really surf again. It had also been very nice to show-off, beating both John and Ronon to the best waves. She smiles smugly, pleased just thinking of it. 

“I'm eating, kiddo, sorry. Gotta eat, I'm starving. Then we have to wait to digest,” Aidan says. Torren’s face crumples in benign manipulation. “Oh, oh no don't be upset, we can go out later. Or, hey, why don't you ask John? He might say yes.”

John looks nervous as Torren climbs over Aidan's picnic things. Aidan and Ronon both watch, faces bright with anticipation. 

“John,” Torren says, reaching John's raised knee and leaning on it, looking up at him with big eyes wide. 

“Uh, yeah buddy?” John says. 

“Can I surf with you? Aidan is too greedy.”

Ronon and Aidan both fall about laughing. John’s probably going to say no. He's not usually nervous around her kids, Teyla knows. He's not like Rodney, terrified of dropping them or accidentally hurting them, but he's not like Aidan either, throwing himself into whatever game. Ronon's the best babysitter, he loves the kids but is also able to keep them calm, he can be strict and he doesn't just hand them back to her when they get upset or frustrated. John's just a little distant. And he definitely isn't confident enough to surf with Torren. Teyla's about to intercede, draw her son away with promises of food now surf later, but John's nodding.

“Sure. We can go out. You'll need your swimming things and jacket, so why don't you find those?” John says, getting to his feet and stretching, sending a smug look Ronon and Aidan’s way. 

Teyla helps Torren get ready and stands for a bit watching, but John's got it. She can see even from this distance that they're fine out there. She sits again, by Rodney's chair. 

“He volunteered,” Rodney says, voice a bit soft. “You know that thing, so sick kids or kids with disabilities can surf? He did some with them.”

“That's nice,” Teyla says, nodding. 

Rodney shrugs. He doesn't say but Teyla's pretty sure that John did it so he'd feel more comfortable taking Torren out. Rodney does say something about then giving John all the geeky ones because of his inability to talk about anything other than Batman, sci-fi, and helicopters. Teyla gets up and stretches, inviting Rodney to join her before crashing Ronon and Aidan's picnic. Rodney retreats behind her journal, so Teyla feels no guilt in leaving him on his own and playing football with Aidan and Ronon after lunch, or in going back out with them, paddling to join Torren and John where they've abandoned surfing for a strange game of ‘flee from the jellyfish’ which seems to involve John lobbing Torren off the board from a standing position, out into the ocean, then Torren yelling very loud and swimming back with much splashing to try and push John off, his bright life jacket apparently making him the jellyfish. She sighs when he sees her arrival as a chance for lunch, demanding she go back with him. 

“Why don't you and I go, bud?” John suggests, straddling his board. “We've been out a while, I need more sunscreen or Rodney will yell at me. And I'm hungry too.”

Torren reluctantly agrees and John hoists him aboard, out of the water, in time to catch a wave. Teyla listens to them both yelling in excitement as they go and laughs, paddling further out with Ronon and Aidan to look for some bigger waves, trusting John to have Torren for a while. He's never offered to babysit before. 

* * *

The livingroom is the biggest room downstairs, Kanaan put in doors all across the back wall so they can open the whole thing up onto the deck, it's where they usually congregate. Sam’s stopped by for dinner and Jennifer for a drink after, Ronon's still here and John and Rodney are staying, so there's a lot of them. John went to lie down for a bit, after dinner, and Teyla’s playing host, talking to Rodney while she feeds Marta. She curls her leg under her and leans into the back of the armchair, comfortable as the night cools off a bit, watching Rodney as he talks. 

“...it's humanities, and voodoo, but I can't find it in myself to really hate it! It's terrible. And they're  _ right  _ is the thing, and it's  _ weird.  _ Maybe I should submit something.”

“I haven't yet seen anything the crosses the disciplines of astrophysics and trans studies,” Teyla says, intrigued. 

“Mm. Well. It could use an injection of  _ real  _ academia,” Rodney says.

“What’re you having a go at now?” John asks, making Rodney start. He climbs over the back of the sofa and settles next to Rodney, arm slung behind his shoulders. 

“Queer studies. Are you feeling better?” Teyla asks. 

“I'm fine. Has he insulted you personally yet, or just your discipline?” John asks.

“Shut up. Where are your socks? And your jumper? You're going to get cold,” Rodney snaps, fussing at John, who just laughs. 

Sam comes in from the deck with a beer for Rodney and a no alcohol cocktail for Teyla from Kanaan. She looks confused by John for a moment then shrugs and tells him he can get his own drink, sprawling in the other armchair. 

“Yes ma’am,” John says, giving her a pointedly sloppy salute and stealing Rodney's beer. Marta, done with feeding now and just lolling, is heavy and Teyla shifts her with a sigh. “Would… I can hold her for you, if you like.”

“Oh?” Teyla says, raising an eyebrow. He blushes, which is hilarious. 

“Fine. I want to hold her, ok?” John says, narrowing his eyes at her, grouchy that she’s making him say it. 

She hands the baby over and moves to sit by John instead, leaning on his shoulder to watch Marta. She’s awake, watching the light, laughing at John as he passes the bottle back to Rodney. Teyla pulls away a little so she can see John’s face. She’s known him more than ten years now, all the way back to when he was a major striding into her team with a loose-hipped swagger. She’d been sure back then that he’d be a major pain in her ass, and she’d called him that behind his back, but it had worked out ok. They were both pretty stubborn and both sure of their skill-sets. His increasing certainty in her skill-set had won her over. That, and he’d let her beat the crap out of him on the mats. She smiles very widely remembering those days. He fought like he was lazy, but there was something dangerous in his precision and sometimes he’d fight her like he was fighting the entire world. Now he looks much more at peace as he gazes down at her daughter, his face softer now, showing lines around his eyes from laughter. He looks older. 

“What?” he asks her, voice quiet. “She’s really beautiful, Teyla.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Teyla agrees. “As are you. You look happy, it is a good look on you.”

John turns slightly away, he and Rodney exchanging some kind of silent conversation, and then Rodney gets up with a grumble, brushing John’s cheek and bending to kiss his forehead before going over to Sam, who’s dozing. Rodney nudges her and pokes her until she gets up and goes to the kitchen with him to ‘talk real science and really Sam that last article you published that was all my work’. Sam, always easily wound up by Rodney, follows hot on his heels and loud. 

“Sam’s going to kill him, one of these days,” Teyla says. “They’ll never find the body, she’s smart.”

“He’ll deserve it,” John says, equably. She looks out at the deck, Ronon and Kanaan are shadows moving across the light, Jennifer settling in Ronon’s lap as they sit. 

“Hm. That’s interesting,” Teyla says. “I didn’t realise Ronon and Jennifer had worked things out.”

“Huh,” John says. He’s not even remotely interested, she can tell. He’s looking at Marta again, a little tense, his shoulders are up a bit. 

“Do you want me to take her?” Teyla asks. John shakes his head, shifting her a little closer to himself. Teyla decides to have mercy on him. “Is there something on your mind, John?”

“Dave showed up,” John blurts. “He, he, he, that’s my broth- brother.”

“Showed up?” Teyla asks, not bothering to remind him that she knows who Dave is. 

“At work,” John says, mouth tight and unhappy. “Got a private detective to track me down. I had, ha, ‘dinner’ with him.”

“Mm?”

“Got drunk.”

John doesn’t really talk about things, most of the time. Teyla does, she finds it beneficial to talk about her feelings, to share things about herself, but she accepted that John is intensely personal. He tried, with her, and that always counted more. Even if she did have to fill in most of the gaps while he groped wildly for words. He’s got better, over the years, and he doesn’t have much trouble giving her a call now and then to tell her something, or like this he’ll come up and sit with her, ask her about how things are, tell her a bit about something going on with him. Now he seems to have lost his grasp of things again, though. She listens as best she can as he stammers and stumbles through an explanation. 

“You are angry,” she says, eventually, when he stutters to a halt, unable to get past a word. He’s looking at Marta instead of her, and his face keeps going back to soft and open every time Marta makes a face. Right now Teyla’s pretty sure she’s windy but John looks awed. 

“I am angry,” he agrees. 

“And hurt,” Teyla says. John just nods. Teyla nods, too. “You can always come here.”

“Yeah,” he says. Marta wriggles, face squinched up, and farts loudly. John looks startled, then amazed, staring down at the baby. 

Teyla laughs at how utterly astounded John is, fond of both him and Marta. She squeezes his arm and gets up, going to fetch Kanaan. It’s his turn to change nappies and put the kids to bed. Torren’s gone up ages ago already, Marta’s only still up for food. Her focus shifts to her children for a bit. Once Kanaan’s sorted Marta’s nappy, and she’s had a last feed before bed, Teyla turns back to her friends. Ronon’s come in and he and Jennifer are sat together, talking quietly, heads bent close. Rodney’s in his place beside John again, gesturing wildly as he argues with Sam, who’s taken the chair Teyla had earlier. John’s resting against Rodney’s back, hand hooked over his shoulder and head on his hand, eyes closed. He looks almost asleep. Teyla sits beside him again and rubs his arm. 

“Hmm?” He mumbles. 

“Why don’t you head to bed?” She asks. “We can talk in the morning, if you wish.”

“Or never again?” John says, opening his eyes a little and smiling at her ruefully. “I love him.”

“That makes sense, John. He is your brother, you grew up with him. You don’t have to forgive him or do anything, just because you love him,” Teyla says. 

“I want… I love you too,” John says, blurting it out and closing his eyes again. Rodney is right; John blushes very easily.

“I know that,” Teyla says. 

“You’re family,” John says, trying to explain what Teyla already knows, already understands. 

“Yes, and you are family for us. Would you like it if Torren and Marta called you ‘uncle John’?” Teyla asks. John nods, going even redder. “Torren often does, at his school, to explain who you are to his friends.”

“It doesn’t… with Dave. It won’t…” John stumbles to a stop again, turning his face into his partner’s shoulder, tucking himself closer to him. Rodney shifts, not slowing his conversation with Sam but turning to look at Teyla. Teyla smiles at him in assurance and he turns away again. 

“I know,” Teyla says. “But, thank you. It is good to hear that you won’t forget us if you do reconnect with your brother.”

It isn’t a lie, it really is good to hear, as well. And that John wants to be uncle to her children, and to see him making and effort to be closer to them. It will make it easier for her to be closer to him, again, as well. Family is all well and good, but sometimes it’s just nice to hear things, to have things clear. She wants to hug him, but instead she just rubs his arm again. He takes her hand, face still hidden. They sit for a while in silence, listening to Sam and Rodney have an increasingly drunken debate about something physics that Teyla can’t begin to understand. Rodney cuts Sam off mid-sentence, after a bit. 

“I’m going to take John to bed,” he says, smugly, derailing Sam’s outrage with his solicitude. 

“Hey,” John whines. “Don’t use me to win an argument. She’s right, you know she’s right. Bed would be good though, yeah.”

Teyla laughs as John untangles himself and gets to his feet, stretching with a series of winces and clicks and pops. He turns and bends to press his forehead to her forehead to say goodnight before he leaves. That had started out as her headbutting him in greeting, as a way of being affectionate without him noticing - it allowed her to press close like this after for a moment. They still do it sometimes, but sometimes they’ll skip the headbutting. Ronon and Jennifer take the opportunity to leave too, eyes only on each other, and Teyla’s left with Sam. They make a jug of no-alcohol cocktails and take it out onto the deck, sitting shoulder to shoulder to watch the night. 


End file.
